


to all my loved ones (my thoughts are running)

by shibecafe (orphan_account)



Series: walkin' in time [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, M/M, MCD isnt what you think!, hyuckie is a god, kun is a nice guy, very pretentious flowery language at the start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 06:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15858384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/shibecafe
Summary: “Will you come back tomorrow?” He asks.Mark doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Of course I will. I’m not sure how I’ll get back, though.” He frowns.“Oh, your little fox friend will lead you, I’m sure.” Donghyuck smiles sweetly. Mark hums.“In that case, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waves jovially before setting off down the path, the little fox leading the way. Donghyuck watches him go, feeling more grounded than he has in centuries.





	to all my loved ones (my thoughts are running)

**Author's Note:**

> i made a playlist for this fic! [here it is!](https://open.spotify.com/user/hongkensoo/playlist/24HoK67YAtOOPUAuOKkm48?si=jAlQoaPYSyGgF1O-oPOocQ)
> 
> title from the video for walkin' in time by the boyz! stanzas taken from _sun & moon_ by nct 127! 
> 
> i'd like to thank becca for putting up with me talking about this fic - and keeping me sane. this is (kind of) for you!
> 
> p.s this in un-beta'd. i'm much too impatient to wait for someone to proofread my content.

**** The stars shine brighter than usual tonight. His back presses into the soft bark, a comforting pressure that keeps him from being swallowed whole by sleep.The calm breeze parts the tree canopy above him, allowing the pale moonlight to illuminate his surroundings. He'd usually be consumed by dreams at this hour, his mind running amok with all things fantastical and outlandish, but something odd - unnameable - made him stay with the waking world.

Leaves tumble and dance as they make their way to the forest floor. The sprites that inhabit the forest skitter across branches, and foxes dart between logs on the ground. He used to fear for the creatures of the forest - fear because of the mortals that used to trek through the forest to get to his shrine were careless in how they treated the land, flippant in their treatment of the natural inhabitants of the area, so casual that they caused harm and injury. 

Now he has no such worries. No human has stepped foot in this forest in years. Almost every path is overgrown, hidden, private. Safety comes in spades if one knows where to look. 

Sleep pokes at his mind like vines, so he stands up on his branch. The tree canopy interlocks in a way that makes it easy to jump from branch to branch safely, so he makes use of that and runs through the heights. It’s freeing, he thinks, to run so wildly, so unconstrained. 

He feels like nothing can stop him. 

He runs and hops until it’s time to begin the sunrise. When that time comes, he sits on the highest point of the forest. He centers himself, eyes shut, palms raised to the twinkling sky. His fingers tingle, like something is crackling along his skin in the gentlest of ways. He breathes deeply. He pulls, tugs,  _ controls  _ the power that sits just below his ribs. He lifts it, higher and higher until everything begins to brighten. 

The birds begin to sing their songs, and he knows he’s done. He opens his eyes and is greeted by the warm sunrise. He smiles. 

Basking in the warmth of the sun is his most prized activity. It feels like home. It feels dear.

-

_ I see you even when I close my eyes _ _  
_ _ I hear you even when I cover my ears _

-

He’s dozing off when something in him sparks. Something long forgotten. Something like an intruder, or a visitor. Something equally as  _ unknown _ as it is  _ familiar _ . Cold and warm at the same time, simultaneously filling him with dread and joy. 

He swiftly climbs the nearest tree and begins his race to the Shrine. The run on the branches is no longer freeing, but is now hasty, heavy, expectantly weighted. He runs and runs until he’s forced to stop by the ending treeline. He finds himself staring down at the clearing full of flowers. The clearing with a boy in it. A human boy. How odd. Nothing has felt so intriguing in years. 

Given the fact that it’s more than impossible to merely spring directly into a clearing from anywhere but the entrance, he hops around the surrounding branches, something anticipatory finding a home in his bones. He scrabbles down the trunk of a tree by the overgrown path. As he walks through the dappled shadows of the path, a warm breeze blows past, right into the clearing. 

The odd thing about walking over shadows such as these is that he always feels like he’s floating, not quite part of this plane of existence. It feels as if a thin sheet of glass or water separates him from the living world. As he travels up the path, the diffused sunshine wraps its way around him, holding him close. 

He breaches the entrance to the clearing. The warmth that surrounded him fizzles out slowly, leaving  _ possibility  _ in its wake. He stares at the human boy, and the human boy stares back. A ribbon fox sits comfortably in the human’s lap, and he feels distinctly impressed. 

The human has broad shoulders, long legs that fold delicately under him. Pale brown hair sits curled over his gently curved eyebrows. His thin lips are parted slightly, and his warm eyes are wide. 

“Why are you at my shrine, puny mortal?” He grins at the human. “I thought everyone had forgotten me.” 

The boy coughs. “Uh… A deer sent me?” The ribbon fox twists until it’s curled tightly in the human’s lap. 

“The sacred deer sent you?” He squints at the human. “Interesting. What are you seeking?”

The boy straightens up. “A purpose. Knowledge. A friend.” 

He laughs. “Well, I’m sure you can gain some knowledge here. And it seems you’ve made a friend already.” He gestures to the fox that now sleeps in the human’s lap. “I’m Haechan. Or, I was. Now I’m just Donghyuck.” 

The human grins blindingly at Donghyuck. “Mark Lee.” 

-

_ When I think of you _ __  
_ Even if you’re in a place _ __  
_ Where I can’t touch you _ _  
_ __ I can feel you

-

Born in the time of Gods and spirits, Donghyuck grew up with the beliefs that everything is controlled by someone. He was brought into existence some months after a regretful night had by the princess of a court that no one remembers. He hid in the shadows, away from the striking eyes of the courts.

His mother was gentle, loving, warm and kind, so much kinder than Donghyuck thinks she should have been considering what he symbolised. Every afternoon, after her court duties, she would put on her layman clothes and walk him through the markets, buying fruits and ignoring the potential consequences of her actions. 

The kingdom was perpetually bathed in gold, dazzling in the sunshine, finer  than any place surrounding it. Peaceful and with little contention between the upper and lower class, no conflict arose in the time Donghyuck was mortal, nor did it rise once he became a God. 

The only tension that arose was between Donghyuck’s mother and her own inner turmoil. Often falling into bouts of depression, she would comfort herself by comforting her child, as warm and loving as when she wasn’t plagued by darkness.

_ You’ll be in for something big and wonderful, my baby,  _ his mother had whispered to him on her darkest nights.  _ You will get everything good, for you have had to endure the worst, and yet you still shine the brightest. You are my sun, and I shall love you forever. _

Her sweet encouragement brought him peace when he was enshrouded in darkness too. On one of the worst nights, one of the nights where she would cry and plead for him to forgive her for the fate she left him to, an ache started deep in his heart and his soul. They cried together, weeping for the lives that could have been.

Once exhaustion had hit and his mother drifted into a fitful sleep, the ache only expanded until it snapped, dragging him into oblivion. 

The following hours were hard. Sitting next to his mother, watching her cling to his body as she slept, unknowing about how his soul abandoned her plane of existence… No matter how he tried, Donghyuck couldn’t get back to his body. Forced to watch his mother wail and unable to reassure her. 

He watched her search high and low for some way to bring him back, going so far as to beg the palace priest to do something, anything, within his power to reverse whatever terrible karma took Donghyuck away from her. 

The priest’s tentative solution of asking the Gods brought some fear to the table, but Donghyuck watched as his mother agreed. He prepared swiftly, before praying to his Gods and Goddesses to give the boy one last chance. After hours of sitting, pleading, begging for Donghyuck to be saved, the Goddess of the heavens showed her face. She placed a hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder, smiling kindly, fingertips feeling like woven silk and possibility.

_ To save him, truly save him, you must give him to us wholly. _ She was gentle, kind, understanding. The priest and his mother tearfully agreed, sobbed and asked for the Goddess’s help with raw throats.

_ I will make him a God, _ the Goddess whispered.  _ He will be the Sun, and you will never worry for him again. _ And so it was. Donghyuck became Haechan, Full Sun, the brightest thing in the sea of darkness.

Once he was in the same plane of existence as his mother, she tearfully embraced him, begging for his forgiveness like she did on the darkest nights. He’d leaned his head on her shoulder, whispering his apologies and begging for  _ her  _ forgiveness.

After that, all was said and done. Every morning, Haechan would bring the sun up, learning from the old God of the sun. Every afternoon, he would coax the sun down again. During the day, he would enjoy the parts of the kingdom that were previously denied of him in his mortal life. Freely walking through the streets, singing in the pretty gardens, eating with his mother without having to hide. 

Peace finally descended onto him, as warm as the sun he controlled. 

The years passed quietly. His mother grew older while Haechan stayed the same, eternally young, until eventually it was time to say goodbye. She passed comfortably, after a long life, guided by her son, her Sun, into the Underworld.

In the years that followed her leaving, Haechan became more subdued. Gone was the dancing and singing in the gardens, replaced by sitting in the trees to observe others doing the things he used to love. His main reason for visiting the kingdom disappeared, and so his visits became more and more infrequent until everyone forgot about the sparkling sun God.

He melts into the forest, never to be seen again by mortal eyes. 

In for something big and wonderful, indeed. 

-

_ When my moon rises _ __  
_ Your sun rises as well _ _  
_ __ Under the same sky

-

Donghyuck isn’t sure what compels him to spill his truths to Mark Lee the human. All the he can say is that idea of sharing his story with the mortal feels right and true. 

The human cries for him as he strings his tale together. Donghyuck is startled by the compassion Mark Lee possesses, so startled that he laughs incredulously. “Why are you crying, silly human? It’s a sad story, yes, but you shouldn’t cry for things that have happened.” Donghyuck brushes away Mark’s tears gently. Mark hangs his head, sniffling. “I’m serious, Mark Lee. I’m quite content with my life now. It’s peaceful.”

“But you’ve been alone !” Mark whines pitifully. Donghyuck finds it impossibly endearing.

He can’t help but laugh again. “I’ve been alone, but I haven’t been lonely.” He stretches, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Now, tell me about you. Who is Mark Lee?” 

-

_ In this different time _ __  
_ Our hearts are connected _ _  
_ __ Under the same sky

-

Mark grew up in Canada, spending his time playing guitar and reading, writing short stories and researching anything that caught his interest. Son of an English professor and a meteorologist, he grew up with scholars and learnt to make the most of the knowledge he could get his hands on. He read up on mythology, musical theory, science and literature, anything that he could find. 

His brother joked that he was like a walking encyclopedia, knowing about anything and everything anyone could ever hope to ask about. His friends told him he was a nerd. It never bothered him much, not until high school when he had to start thinking about what he wanted to do in life. 

Mostly, he wanted to do music, or he wanted to write. His mother encouraged him to try both, so when college came around, he chose to become a Music major with a Creative Writing minor. The courses were hard, but Mark made it out largely unscathed, despite the roubles that did occasionally arise. In his freshman year, he’d started posting his self-produced tracks online, which eventually lead to him getting scouted and signed by a large company in Korea. He packed up shop after graduation, said goodbye to his family, and set off for the place he only knew about from the stories his parent told him and the books he read.

When he wasn’t producing, writing lyrics, rapping, doing anything and everything the company asked of him, he was writing stories. He set out on leave to find inspiration for a novel, travelling the country and learning about everything he could. He’d ended up in a small town in the countryside, staying there for a few months. He took up a part time job at one of the little stores and became close with the locals. 

The ahjumma that ran the store told him about the supposedly magical forest, how all sorts of odd happenings used to go on up there. She told him the tale of the hidden shrine, secreted away in the deepest part of the forest, accessible to only the purest of heart. Supposedly, the God of the Forest would only let those he judged worthy past a certain point. 

The story fascinated Mark, so he packed a bag and set off into the forest himself. He’d tripped over roots, gotten lost, and had maybe cried when he couldn’t figure out what he was doing. Eventually, his mind cleared enough that he could see the stars twinkling like promises in the sky. 

-

_ Every night, in my dreams _ __  
_ We are connected to each other _ _  
_ __ We’re looking at the same place

-

Mortal life sounds so very different to when Donghyuck had last been entrenched in it. He asks a few questions before Mark announces his need to leave the forest. 

Disappointment weighs heavily on Donghyuck’s shoulders. He really doesn’t want Mark to leave. The companionship was nice and comforting, and he’s loathe to let it go. 

“Will you come back tomorrow?” He asks.

Mark doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Of course I will. I’m not sure how I’ll get back, though.” He frowns.

“Oh, your little fox friend will lead you, I’m sure.” Donghyuck smiles sweetly. Mark hums. 

“In that case, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waves jovially before setting off down the path, the little fox leading the way. Donghyuck watches him go, feeling more grounded than he has in centuries. 

-

_ Without a sound _ __  
_ You enter into me _ _  
_ __ And I’m being pulled by you

-

In the days that follow, Mark continues to come back. The two of them spend time walking through the forest and laying in the sunny clearing, enjoying the warmth and the comfort that feels as thick as honey. It feels unbelievably easy to be around Mark. Almost like this was meant to happen. 

Of course, everything happens for a reason, and of course the Fates had a hand in all of this happening, but Donghyuck likes to believe that some higher power - higher than the Gods - wished for this to happen.

Or maybe it was his own unknowing actions that lead to this. Maybe the world felt his loneliness and sent him a friend in the form of a humble mortal named Mark Lee.

Whatever made Mark appear, Donghyuck is thankful. It feels nice to have someone he can be free around, someone he feels so at ease with, no matter how oddly quick it happened. Being around Mark is better than being in the sun, Donghyuck thinks. Bold of him to think, but it’s true. 

Time feels like it slows down when he’s with Mark, but also like it’s passing in the blink of an eye. Everything feels new and interesting, ready to be found by them. They talk about everything: Mark’s world, how the world was when Donghyuck was part of it. It’s easy. Sweet. Maybe the best time of Donghyuck’s immortal life. 

It’s the best time until Mark trudges to their clearing - when did it become theirs? - looking miserable and tense. Donghyuck can tell Mark is trying his hardest to hide it, so he doesn’t ask any questions. He figures that Mark will surely tell him what’s going on eventually, so instead Donghyuck starts talking about the festivals they used to hold in the Kingdom. 

Mark’s little ribbon fox scuttles around through the grass as he talks. The ribbon fox is odd. Mostly because Donghyuck had thought they stopped existing on this plane of existence. Eventually Donghyuck stops talking, and just sits, watching Mark. The tension hasn’t left his companion’s shoulders. It becomes too much for Donghyuck.

“Why are you so tense? I can feel your anxiety from over here.” He sniffs, putting up a facade of nonchalance.

Mark startles. He looks up at Donghyuck and scratches his neck. “I’m sorry.” Donghyuck scoffs goodnaturedly, but the look on Mark’s face makes him stop.

“Hey, no, it’s okay. What’s wrong?” Crawling over and leaning his head on Mark’s shoulder feels natural.

Mark inhales sharply. “My company called me.” Donghyuck hums quietly, playing with Mark’s hand. Dread starts creeping in, but he ignores it. “They want me to go back to Seoul.” Oh. 

“Oh.” Donghyuck pauses. “Are… Are you going back?” Some form of panic begins to set in. He knew Mark would have to leave eventually - he knows Mark has a life outside of the forest, outside of  _ Donghyuck _ . But the thought of not having Mark feels sharper than any weapon.

“I don’t have a choice, really. I need this job, and I’ve used up all my vacation days. I really don’t want to leave.” Mark’s voice sounds choked up. Donghyuck’s heart breaks a little, but he does his best to project positivity. He reaches up to wipe away Mark’s tears. It reminds him of the first time he met Mark. Mark laughs wetly and bats Donghyuck’s hands away. “Stop it, let me cry!” 

“No way, dude.” That makes Mark laugh again. Donghyuck knows Mark finds it funny when he uses more modern mannerisms, acting like a youth from his city. “Man, c’mon, don’t get all teary on me. Listen, you go back to your big old city, and when you can, you can come back. I’ll be here waiting for you. Also, I’m a God, so I can just… wait. I have time.” It’s true. Donghyuck  _ does  _ have time, too much of it. If he uses that time to wait for Mark… well, at least it’s something. 

He watches, dismayed, as Mark’s face falls. Abruptly, Mark actually sobs, and Donghyuck is  _ sure  _ this is what heartbreak feels like. The pressure that was building up behind his eyes crashes down finally, tears streaming down his face and his throat feeling like it’s full of marbles. It’s painful. The thought of Mark leaving makes a bitter, ashy taste fill his mouth. 

Eventually, the tears stop. Donghyuck really doesn’t understand his attachment to Mark, but at this point, questioning it just seems pointless. 

They spend a while in silence. It’s fake peace, hindered by the underlying sadness. It’s unlike any kind of sadness Donghyuck has ever felt.

Donghyuck makes a split-second decision when Mark gets up. For the first time since they met, he gets up too. Mark startles. Rolling his eyes, Donghyuck grabs his best-friend-but-kind-of-more’s hand, pulling him towards the pathway. He hasn’t walked this pathway in centuries, leaving maintenance up to the spirits that roam the forest, but walking it with Mark feels right.

The bridge is pristine as it was years ago. He and Mark stand right before it in silence, watching the creek pass by lazily, as creeks do. Donghyuck would like to cross the bridge, wants to walk the planks with Mark more than he’s ever wanted anything, but the shimmering barrier is a stark reminder of the fact that he doesn’t belong to Mark’s world. 

Donghyuck turns back to Mark after a minute of looking at the barrier. He tilts his head, and Mark laughs at him. Donghyuck smiles wryly. “Well, puny mortal? Run along.” 

Mark squints, and Donghyuck squints back. Out of nowhere, Mark half lurches half bends forward. He kisses Donghyuck, nothing spectacular, just a soft press of lips while he holds Donghyuck’s face gently. Donghyuck hums, startled but pleased. He knows, has known, that Mark felt  _ something  _ for him, and it’s gratifying that Mark finally took initiative. 

When they part, Donghyuck grins. “Took you long enough, silly human.” 

Mark rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” He says, sounding unbelievably fond.

“I really don’t want you to go.” Donghyuck frowns. Wrapping his arms around Mark feels bittersweet.

“I’ll be back really soon. I swear.” Mark runs his hand through Donghyuck’s hair. “Hey, Hyuck?” 

“What.” 

“I really like you,” Mark whispers. “And I swear I’ll be back.” 

-

_ When my moon rises _ __  
_ Your sun rises as well _ _  
_ __ Under the same sky

-

Days feel weird after that. Weirdly empty. Logically, Donghyuck knows it’s because he misses Mark, but he doesn’t really want to think about how deep his attachment goes. How fast he started feeling like Mark was an extension of him, like Mark was his and he was Mark’s. 

Well. He supposes he still feels that way. 

Time drags by, slow but grating, nothing like the honey-slick movement of time when Donghyuck was wrapped around Mark. As days pass, Donghyuck feels ragged, torn at the edges like paper left pinned to a wall for too long. 

Mark promised to be back, but Donghyuck’s heart of hope feels heavier the longer Mark doesn’t come. 

Eventually, he stops waiting. 

Eventually, he disappears into the trees, tired and ashamed and more than a little heartbroken. The ribbon fox becomes his new best friend, accompanying him everywhere, even into the highest reaches of the trees, the darkest depths of the forest. 

Donghyuck tends to his duties; making the sun rise has lost its previous glitter and shine, making the sun set just makes him sad instead of content. He brings up the sun thirty times before something in him sparks. Something not so long forgotten. Something like an intruder, or a visitor. Something equally as achingly  _ familiar _ as it is newly  _ unknown _ . Cold and warm at the same time, simultaneously filling him with dread and joy. 

Oh. Mark is back. Donghyuck thought he’d be angry, bitter, at end of the separation, but all he feels now is relief. 

He doesn’t bother running this time, too excited and eager to see Mark’s stupid face. Instead, he pulls forth the energy of the sunlight and steps through the warm glow. He’s immediately transported to where Mark stands, eyes closed in their clearing. 

His hair is black now, reflecting shades of red and brown in the sunlight. An oversized shirt is tucked into light wash shorts. Donghyuck thinks Mark looks boyishly cute, more-so than he was a month ago. 

The ache in his heart lifts away. 

“You’re back.” Mark jumps at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice. 

Being back with Mark feels like home. 

-

_ In this different time _ __  
_ Our hearts are connected _ _  
_ __ Under the same sky

-

“So, the only reason I couldn’t come back sooner is because I spent so long out here. I’ve done some negotiating, though! I get a day off every week, which means when I get out of work on Tuesday night I can drive down here in time to spend all of Wednesday with you.” Donghyuck’s only half listening to Mark, more content to just lay in the grass and bask in having Mark there. 

Mark flicks Donghyuck’s forehead. “Are you even listening?”

“...Yes,” He pauses. “Kind of.” 

“So you aren’t?” 

“No, not really.” Donghyuck shrugs. Mark smiles fondly, hands carding through Donghyuck’s hair. 

Instead of repeating what he said, Mark just leans down and kisses Donghyuck sweetly.

Yes. This is what home feels like. 

-

_ Will I be able to see you again? _ __  
_ At the end of this long journey? _ _  
_ __ Want to be together

-

True to his word, Mark drives down every Tuesday night and spends all of Wednesday from sunrise to sunset with Donghyuck. Life is pretty good, or as good as it can be when Donghyuck can only spend 12 hours a week with his kind-of-boyfriend. As good as it can get when Donghyuck spends every day that isn’t Wednesday trying to figure out a way to become mortal again. Considering the fact that he lives alone, in a forest, finding a way to forsake his own immortaility is pretty hard. 

The soil under his feet is damp, the petrichor a familiar and calming scent. It’s early morning, before he has to make the sun rise, stars still twinkling gently above him. The air is brisk, cutting through the thin shirt that Donghyuck wears; it goes unnoticed as Donghyuck keeps walking down the river. He’d like to dip his feet into the water, but the shimmering barrier cuts him off just a few inches away from the edge.

Water rushing fills his ears. To his left, branches snap as different denizens of the forest dash over the forest floor. It’s all very normal, but Donghyuck feels empty despite his calm. Maybe the calm is fake, because really, he just feels like there’s nothing left.

It’s a Tuesday, halfway through winter, and Donghyuck is lonelier than he’s ever been. 

He watches some leaves tumble down into the water, sees the ripples move out, wonders what it would be like to be able to move wherever he pleased like the leaves do. 

As he stares at the water, clouds aboves him begin to darken. Donghyuck is tempted to abandon the sunrise, prepared to go and find a cove to wait out in, but that wouldn’t be right. 

He runs to the highest point in the forest. Life carries on, even in the face of a God’s displeasure. 

-

_ In the same time _ __  
_ In different places _ _  
_ __ This distorted fate

-

Life really does carry on, with Mark spending a day a week with Donghyuck, sometimes camping out on weekends. When Mark is in the city, Donghyuck tries to contact the shaman that he’d heard whispers about. The only way for a God like him to contact a shaman was when the moon is highest, his power weakest, with a bowl of water from the nearest sacred river and some blood red berries, crushed into a paint-like substance to use for runes.

Everything is easy to get except the water. Being separated from the river makes that a challenge, a challenge that Donghyuck is ready to accept.

Late at night, he treks to the bridge that Mark usually crosses. Eyes set on the river, he fumbles with some giant leaves, forming a makeshift bucket. After pushing his sirtsleeves up, he walks as close as he can to the edge of the river, close enough that he can feel the thin spray of water that comes with the wind. 

Donghyuck’s leaf bucket only just reaches the water. He grits his teeth, determined to get some of the water, even if it means he gets zapped by the stupid barrier. Leaves crunch under his feet as he angles himself closer. 

The ring that Mark gave him glints in the moonlight. 

He tips forward. His heart stops - his grip becomes shaky - his knee cracks - he pulls back and - 

And he has water from the river. Donghyuck heaves a sigh of relief.

Pouring the water into the stone bowl proves slightly messy because of his shaking hands, but he fills the bowl almost to the brim anyway. Standing up makes his knees want to buckle, but Donghyuck pushes on. 

Picking the berries is infinitely easier than anything else. As he walks, he crushes the berries gently between his fingers, forming a slightly chunky paste. 

Sitting on a flat surface is important, so Donghyuck walks to the rock he sits at to make the sun rise and set every day. The stone bowl makes a loud sound as Donghyuck places it on the rock. After rolling his shoulders, he begins to paint the runes onto the stone. He knows the red will stain the rock, but he doesn’t care all that much. 

Time feels fragile as he carefully draws the runes; like it will fracture and leave Donghyuck behind, alone and stuck in the dark of night. 

After putting down the last line, Donghyuck sighs heavily. He’s tired, but he’s determined to go through with this shaman-summoning. He flicks some of the water over te runes and waits. And waits. And waits.

Nothing happens. Donghyuck doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he was definitely expecting something vaguely extravagent. With a sigh, Donghyuck pushes the bowl of water over. He watches the berry runes blur and smudge, heart heavy.

This was his only chance to become human. His frustration builds up quickly, guilt and sadness weighing down on his shoulders until tears spring to his eyes. Staring at the runes is all he can think to do as frustrated tears drip down his face. 

“Why are you crying?” A voice like summer says from behind him. Donghyuck startles violently, head snapping to the side the voice came from. A boy, looking like he’s in his early twenties, leans against a tree, smiling at Donghyuck. It’s hard to see what he really looks like due to the darkness, but Donghyuck can see his eyes giving off a kind of glow. It’s unsettling.

“Who the hell are you?” Donghyuck answers the question with a question of his own.

The boy laughs. “You summoned me, shouldn’t you know?” 

“ _ You’re  _ the shaman?” Donghyuck is shocked. He’d expected an old woman with greying hair and long robes, not a young guy in jeans and a hoodie. 

“I am indeed. I’m Kun.” Kun walks over to Donghyuck’s rock and sits down. “You’re Donghyuck, right?” 

Squinting, the God nods. Kun smiles again and looks out off the rock. Donghyuck is puzzled at Kun’s lack of questioning. “Aren’t you going to ask why I summoned you?” 

Kun shakes his head. “I figure if you want me to know, you’ll tell me by yourself.” 

And tell him Donghyuck does. He talks about Mark, and how they met, how they’ve been barely seeing eachother over the past couple of years. Donghyuck tells Kun how he’s spent that time trying to find ways to become human again, to get back to where he wants to be. (He talks about MarkMarkMarkMarkMark like that’s all he knows.)

By the time Donghyuck stops, it’s time to make the sun rise. Kun offers a gentle smile, says he’ll be back when night falls, and promptly disappears. Donghyuck is left blinking at the spot where Kun had been sitting. All that’s left is a faint sparkle on the rock and the feeling of being incomplete. 

Donghyuck sighs. He turns to the valley, centres himself, and begins the sunrise. 

For the whole day, he doesn’t move from his spot on the rock. Different creatures walk and fly by, but Donghyuck just sits and stares out at the valley, waiting. Maybe he has a nap in the middle of the day, but no one needs to know that. 

When it comes to the time of sunset, giddiness finds its way into Donghyuck’s bones, making him feel like he’s vibrating. He wants Kun to come back, to help him, to find a way for him to get back to Mark. Anticipation feels tangible, like something  _ will  _ happen tonight. Donghyuck can’t wait.

Once the sun has set and the moon begins it’s journey to the top of the sky, Donghyuck stands up. Spirits start to walk around. 

Donghyuck waits. 

And waits.

And waits.

And finally, after Donghyuck has gotten antsy and nervous like the kid he never really got to be, Kun makes his way through the trees. Donghyuck bounces on the heels of his feet. 

“Were you waiting here all day?” Kun raises an eyebrow.

“...No,” Donghyuck lies. “Absolutely not.” 

“Sure, sure. Well, I did some, uh, searching for you today. To see if I could find anything to help you with your issue.” Donghyuck feels his heart stutter as Kun continues. “I found a few things, but I don’t know if you’re going to like them.” 

Donghyuck’s heart stops in its tracks. “I don’t… What do you mean you don’t think I’ll like it?” He’s mildly frustrated, but Kun doesn’t look like anything particularly bad is about to be said, so Donghyuck decides to withhold his misgivings.

“So I did some hunting.” Kun drops down to the rock, putting a backpack much like Mark’s in front of himself. He pulls out a book, heavy and old looking. “Hey, can you give me some light over here?” Donghyuck scrambles over to sit by the shaman, summoning a little ball of light.

The book is thick, with a mixture of creamy yellow and stark white pages sticking out of the sides. The spine is slightly cracked, obviously well used. The leather is a deep burgundy, branded with swirling runes. As Kun opens the tome, a picture falls out. Two boys in front of a giant building, arms around each other, smitten smiles on their faces. One is obviously Kun, and the other has light pink hair and pretty eyes. If Donghyuck isn’t mistaken, the guy kind of looks like an elf, but being presumptuous isn’t good, so he moves on. Kun takes the photo from Donghyuck with an embarrassed laugh.

The pages of the book are covered in different handwriting, some angular and messy, some loopy and beautiful. Sketches fill in the blank spaces. Kun flicks to the centre of the book, to one of the oldest looking pages. 

At the top, written in reddish ink, is the title  _ HOW TO FORSAKE A GOD TO MORTALITY.  _ It seems quite aggressive. “Okay, so, here’s how to forsake a God.” Kun starts. “The issue is that it’s… unpleasant. You’d probably get really hurt if we did this. I’d have to adjust a lot of things, which would take a while. This is why I said you wouldn’t like it.” 

“Oh.” Donghyuck frowns. “How long?” 

Kun scratches his neck. “If I worked on this alone… Maybe a couple of months.” Donghyuck closes his eyes. “But… if I had help… it could be only a few weeks.” 

“Help from who?” 

The picture makes a reappearance. “From him.” 

-

_ When my moon rises _ __  
_ Your sun rises as well _ _  
_ __ Under the same sky

-

True to his word, It takes Kun a few weeks to create his spell. Donghyuck never meets the pink-haired boy from Kun’s picture, but he does learn that he’s a witch and Kun’s partner. Apparently he’d been pretty important in the process of making it possible for Donghyuck to become human. 

For once, it’s the middle of the morning when Kun shows up at Donghyuck’s rock. In his hand, he holds a large envelope. Excitement and anticipation start making his fingers tingle. The smile on Kun’s face is serene.

“Is it done?” Donghyuck knows it is, but he asks anyway. Kun nods. Donghyuck whoops loudly, overjoyed. He’s bouncing as Kun opens the envelope, vibrates as Kun begins drawing runes on the stone, has to start walking around to get rid of his energy as Kun sets out crystals and other things from his backpack. 

The sun is high up in the sky by the time Kun is done setting everything up. Sweat is beaded on his forehead, and Donghyuck feels kind of bad that the sun beats down on Kun so harshly. Kun looks proud of himself though, so Donghyuck doesn’t feel  _ so  _ bad. 

“Come here,” Kun motions for Donghyuck. He has some yellow paste on his fingers, the same stuff he used to paint the runes onto the stone. With gentle hands, he paints runes onto Donghyuck’s arms and face. A calm bubble seems to form around them. “Okay! Done. Sit in the middle of that circle there.” 

He’s nervous. Kun looks confident, but some pessimistic thoughts invade Donghyuck’s mind. What if this doesn’t work? What if the past few weeks of work was all for nothing? Donghyuck is scared, terrified, that this won’t work out. 

Before he can overthink  _ too  _ much, Kun starts muttering. None of what he says registers in Donghyuck’s mind, it’s not any kind of language Donghyuck knows. It sounds like crackling fire and rushing water. Dark red runes start moving around Kun, and the runes that were on Donghyuck start to dance around too. The air feels electric - almost too much for Donghyuck to handle. 

His limbs feel like jelly. Heat starts to beat down on his back. Kun blurs in front of him, becoming hidden by light and warmth. Donghyuck feels tendrils of warmth ghost over his arms before leaping away, dissipating into nothingness. His skin feels like thin glass, fragile and ready to shatter; he goes to say something, but no sound leaves his mouth. Panic begins to set in, but a brush of Kun’s distinctive magic brings a wash of calm amidst the distress. 

It feels like hours pass before everything just  _ stops _ . 

Everything feels… normal. More normal than ever. 

It’s so refreshing. 

Donghyuck stretches his legs out, freedom being better than anything else. Almost anything. 

When Donghyuck stands up, Kun is leaning against a tree, a metal water bottle clutched in his left hand. He looks tired, but happy. Donghyuck thinks he might cry, so he just runs over to Kun and crushes him into a hug. 

Kun laughs, wrapping his arms around Donghyuck. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Donghyuck might be blabbering, but in a circumstance like this, he’s not ashamed. 

“It’s the least I could do.” Is Kun’s placating reply. Honestly, Donghyuck thinks Kun isn’t taking as much credit as he’s due, but to each their own, he guesses. 

He pulls a few steps away from the shaman and wipes his eyes hastily. Kun graciously turns to his backpack, pulling out a few things while Donghyuck composes himself. 

“I’ve got some things for you,” Kun says when he turns back to Donghyuck. “A set of clothes, because you can’t wear your current outfit out in the mortal world, unless you want to attract some attention.” 

Donghyuck glances down at the flowy gossamer shirt he wears, the loose cotton pants and the bits of gold jewellery that has adorned his body for centuries and frowns. “Why not?”

“People don’t really… dress like that now. Of course, you can keep and wear them, but I’d recommend wearing what I’ve got here just for the venture into the city.” He shoves the clothes into Donghyuck’s arms. A white T-Shirt, not unlike the shirts Mark wears, denim pants also like Mark’s, socks and some sneakers. “I had to guess your sizes.” 

Donghyuck hums appreciatively. Shamelessly, he begins to change right away. He laughs when Kun coughs and turns away to pack up his things that are still scattered on the rock nearby. Mortals are so odd. 

Though, now he can’t just say mortals. Because he  _ is  _ mortal now. 

It feels so good. 

The shirt is soft on his skin when he pulls it over his head, a comfortable contrast to the slightly restrictive denim. Both fit alright, shirt a bit too big and jeans a bit too small, but it doesn’t matter to Donghyuck. He slips the socks and shoes on. It feels weird, after being barefoot for so long, but he’ll get used to it. 

Kun gestures for Donghyuck to hand over his old clothes. Hesitantly, he does, scared that the last pieces of his past will disintegrate if they’re out of his sight for even a second. He trusts Kun, though. 

The sound of the bag zipping is so mundane. So human. Donghyuck is still in disbelief when Kun leads him away from the rocks, still kind of shell shocked when they get to the bridge. He stops where the barrier would have previously stood. The fact that he can’t see the barrier anymore is more polarising than the fact that he doesn’t feel any magic running over his skin. 

Kun watches him from the bridge. Taking a deep breath, Donghyuck steps forward from the stone pathway onto the bridge. He feels wonder as nothing happens. He hasn’t crossed this bridge - hasn’t been  _ able  _ to - in centuries. It really feels like the start of something new.

The forest is more unruly than Donghyuck remembers as Kun leads him through the winding paths. It’s much more wild than his side of the forest, certainly. As the sound of the river fades away the further they walk, the more anxiety wells up in Donghyuck’s chest.

He feels like he’s doing something wrong. Something illicit. 

It’s kind of thrilling. 

Kun is talking about etiquette in the modern human world, but Donghyuck is only half listening. He catches things like  _ don’t yell on trains  _ and  _ don’t be too forward with people _ , but most other things go over his head. The walk to the edge of the forest seems like it takes hours but also seconds. When they get past the tree line, the sun is just beginning to set. Donghyuck gets a shock, because he’s not there to do the job, but that’s not his concern anymore. He doesn’t particularly care anymore.

The walk down to the town is quiet. Kun is tapping away on his phone while Donghyuck stares at the pathway. Or road. It’s nothing like anything he’s ever seen. The closer they get to the town, the more Donghyuck wants to jump into Kun’s backpack and hide. 

Gone are the cramped sandstone buildings and dinky stalls, instead replaced with pretty wooden houses and proper stores. People are walking around and laughing, calm and content. The streets are clean. Donghyuck is kind of awed. Kun has to grab his arm and tug him along when he stops to stare into one of the shops. 

They walk towards what seems to be the busiest part of town. Kids are dashing around with each other. One runs into Donghyuck, and furiously apologises until Donghyuck laughs. “It’s alright.” He grins, basking in the atmosphere. Mortality is so beautiful, he thinks absently. The kid smiles awkwardly and runs off after his friend again. 

Kun pulls him up to a silver car and pushes him into the back seat. Kun’s partner sits in the front seat. Donghyuck is kind of bashful in front of the startlingly pretty boy. Said boy turns to Donghyuck in the backseat as Kun rounds the car.

“You’re the God?” When Donghyuck nods, he smiles. “I’m Sicheng. I hope you find what you want in mortality.” Something otherworldly glints in Sicheng’s eyes. Donghyuck thinks that maybe Sicheng is more than he lets on. 

The three of them drive in silence. Donghyuck just stares out the window, at all the things passing. People and shops, lights and signs, homes and parks and all sorts of things Donghyuck never knew were possible. The skies open up eventually, heavy raindrops beating down on the car. He wants to get out, to run in the rain and feel it on his newly mortal skin, to have that feeling of complete wildness.

Everything catches up with him, though. Exhaustion weighs down on him until he’s curled up on the seat, dozing off as the car rocks gently. 

He wakes up to Kun poking his shoulder. “We’re at Mark’s house.” 

Donghyuck is up and out of the car immediately, almost slipping on the wet pavement. “How did you know his address?” He asks as they walk up to the door. Quickly, he turns back to the car and waves at Sicheng. 

“A mutual friend.” Kun says. It’s valid, Donghyuck guesses. Kun inserts a key into the lock and swiftly unlocks it. He ushers Donghyuck in. The apartment is so very Mark Lee. Papers strewn on the tables, a hoodie haphazardly hung on a chair. Donghyuck immediately feels at home. Kun flicks on a light. “Johnny said Mark gets home around ten. It’s nine now, so you won’t have to be here alone for long. If you need anything, draw a communication rune with this crystal and you’ll be able to get in contact with either Sicheng or myself.”

Donghyuck stares at Kun as he tucks a pale blue crystal into his hand. “Thank you, again, for everything.” He says it as sincerely as he possibly can. 

“You’re welcome, Donghyuck.” Kun pulls him into a hug. “I hope you’re happiest now.” Tears prick at Donghyuck’s eyes again. He wipes his eyes before they can fall. 

Kun makes sure he’s comfortable in Mark’s living room before taking his leave. The room is silent, save for the sound of cars passing through puddles outside and the tapping of a branch on the window. Donghyuck stares at the space Mark calls home. There’s pictures of them that Mark collected in the forest - polaroids hung up by strings of Donghyuck in the sun, photos of them laying the grass, blurry portraits of Donghyuck hanging from trees. He feels like crying again. 

The hour wait for Mark to arrive is torture. Time seems to like playing jokes on Donghyuck, because it feels like years before the door creaks open. He rests his head on the back of the couch, waiting. 

It doesn’t take long for him to hear someone’s breath hitch.

He stands up, turning to the door.

He smiles, brightly as he can. 

Mark stares, tears in his eyes. 

“Don’t cry, silly little human. Life has just begun.”

-

_ In this different time _ __  
_ Our hearts are connected _ _  
_ __ Under the same sky

**Author's Note:**

> tell me your thoughts via [twitter](https://twitter.com/shibecafes) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/quanszhe)! (feel free to leave prompts in my cc inbox~~)


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